Dark Obligations: Book One of the Phantom Badgers by Krpoun RW

Author:Krpoun, RW [Krpoun, RW]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-03-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

There were a thousand and one problems that beset the Captain even as the Draktaur fell. His force was scattered, the slaves in the south pen were enthusiastically digging out the bars of their pen, there was the danger of the noise of the battle attracting attention, and many other issues demanding attention. Ignoring his fatigue and the residual pain in his side, not to mention his throbbing skull, Durek pulled himself to a sitting position and confronted the challenges.

“Janna, Rolf, come here.” When they arrived the Captain addressed the Silver Eagle first. “Where’s the rest of your Group?”

“Nuilia’s dead, took a hit on the back that snapped her spine. Robin was knocked out, and Arian was wounded; Arian has Healed himself and is looking after Robin when we came across to help you.”

The Captain eyed the bloody woman. “Any of that blood yours?”

“A little; nothing bandaging won't deal with until there is Healing available.”

“Right, now, Rolf, get up on the bridge, tell Starr to remain on guard, and to especially keep an eye on the tunnels in case anyone heard the battle, then you go and bring the komad here. I hate to send you alone, but we’re very short handed. Gather up the crossbows and give Arian back his after you bring up the pigs.” The half-Orc tossed a casual salute and trotted towards the rope ladders.

“Janna, go keep the slaves in their pen until we have time to do something with them. I don’t want them wandering around picking things up, whether it be loot or weapons. Send Trellan over here once Bridget is through examining him.”

Smoothing a patch of dirt, Durek wrote out a list of things to do, wrinkling his nose at the stench beginning to roll through the cavern as the Direbreed corpses began the transition from freshly-killed to final corruption in the space of two or three minutes. Fortunately, most were old enough so that when the process was complete all that remained was a pile of twisted bones and the Breedstone.

“What a stench,” Trellan gasped as he came up. “And we had to be where there’s no air flow, too.”

“It would gag a Goblin,” the Captain nodded, wiping his streaming eyes. “Good job the fight is over or we would be in real trouble. Are you wounded?”

“Bruises, no more; a day or two and I’ll be as good as new.”

“Good; now, go tell Bridget to examine that ex-slave, Johann, the one that hobbled the Draktaur. Tell her to check him for cultist tattoos and such, and if she’s satisfied with him, she’s to bring him here. Then go and check on Arian, help him to bring Nuilia and Robin over to this side of the bridge. Put her and Gabriella near the rope ladders, wrap them in blankets, there’s plenty over where the Fortren were camping. Then report back.”

A weary Bridget, an even more exhausted (and mostly-Healed) Kroh, and Johann trudged up a short while later; Durek sent Kroh to rest on the bridge where Starr was standing guard.

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